


Snake Charmer

by EmpireMurderer



Series: Vipers and Vixens [1]
Category: Aladdin (1992)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Jasmine, F/M, Jafar is not an idiot, Older Man/Younger Woman, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-13 01:22:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15353118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpireMurderer/pseuds/EmpireMurderer
Summary: Jasmine is a relentless tease and has her mind set on the Grand Vizier. Jafar tries to teach her that it is unwise to charm a snake without expecting to get bitten. Turns out she knows how to bite back.Canon Divergence - No Aladdin, Abu, Genie, Iago...Made for a prompt: 'Strange mutual attraction'.





	Snake Charmer

**Author's Note:**

> Someone asked so nicely for another J/J story and this popped out of my head. Admittedly, it is way more smuttier than I had originally intended. Ask and you shall receive, Kate. Thanks for the prompt! Hope this satiates anyone else with a Jafar/Jasmine addiction.

Jasmine is just a name that Jafar has heard of until one day, on her eighteenth birthday, suddenly she exists.

“Jafar,” the Sultan waves a hand over his beautiful daughter. “This is Jasmine. She has much to learn about the kingdom. Teach her everything.”

Jafar doesn’t like the idea of wasting his time with a teenager but he didn’t get to his position by defying the Sultan’s orders.

“As you wish, your grace,” he bows and hides his anger. He takes Jasmine’s hand in his and bows even lower. “It is a pleasure, my princess.”

“I believe the pleasure is all mine, Grand Vizier,” she answers. He looks into her eyes and notes the arch of a brow. He can tell he has drawn her interest but he’s not sure how.

 

 

Jasmine shadows Jafar. He hates that he has to be on his best behavior now that she’s always with him. He sees a guard away from his post and he gives a stern, short lecture rather than his usual cutting remarks. The guard is surprised by Jafar’s change in demeanor and glances questioningly at Jasmine. He gives a knowing smile, deducing she’s got him on a leash.

Jafar is miffed but moves on, ready to let this instance be forgotten. Jasmine follows in silence.

“This is the records room,” he tells her as he continues their grand tour. How she doesn’t know any of this is beyond him. She’s never left the palace. Shouldn’t she know it better than anyone?

To his surprise she shows interest in the room, despite it’s austere drabness.

“Who maintains this room?” she asks.

“Sometimes a clerk tidies up but no one is officially in charge.”

“How can you ensure the tomes are placed back in the right order?”

Jafar has had this exact conversation with the administrator. No amount of yelling or threats has goaded the administrator into action, citing he has better things to do than find a keeper for the records room. If the administrator wasn’t the Sultan’s cousin, he would have been kicked out long ago.

“An excellent observation,” Jafar sighs, and he’s at least impressed by her perception. “But one you will have to take up with the administrator.”

“Perhaps, I will,” Jasmine remarks. Jafar wants to chuckle at her audacity, but he’s more fascinated by the way her tone has sparked his arousal.

The next day there is a full time clerk in the records room.

“How did you-…?” Jafar questions. She simply smiles and puts a finger over his mouth for silence.

“You, of all people, should know the power of secrets.”

He doesn’t know what she means but he certainly understands secrets. He is still pondering her words when they approach the same guard from the day before. Because of Jasmine’s presence, the guard is smug and non-compliant. He is away from his post again.

“Guard!” Jasmine yells at him. There is instant fear in his eyes as he is frozen by her dominance. “If I find you away from your post one more time you will have to continue your duties without the use of your left hand!”

“Princess…?” he stutters in confusion.

“I’ll have it chopped off, guard,” she clarifies with a malicious smile. “Now get back to your post!”

The guard runs as fast as he can and takes up his position. Sweat streams down his face. He jitters hard enough to hear his sword clanking against his armor.

Jasmine turns to Jafar.

“I believe you were on your way to chastising the guard before I interrupted you. I apologize for impeding on your behalf.”

“My dear, princess,” he smiles. “I don’t believe I could have handled it any better.”

Jasmine returns his smile and takes his arm and he leads her through the palace.

 

 

Jasmine sits beside her father in the throne room. Jafar stands to the left as he has always done.

“Please, Sultan, the soldiers are taking all the food in the village,” a poor villager cries out. “We don’t need their protection anymore. There have been no bandits for years. Please move them out of the village so that there is food for my family again.”

Jafar stares suspiciously at the villager. The Sultan, in his usual form, does the exact opposite thing Jafar would do in these circumstances.

“Of course we can move the soldiers from the village,” the Sultan replies happily. “I shall order them out at once.”

“Please, your grace,” Jafar bends down to meet the Sultan’s ear. “Perhaps we should send a cavalry to scope out the region to ensure there are no lurking bandits before assigning the soldiers somewhere else.”

“Nonsense, Jafar,” the Sultan replies dismissively. “This man’s family needs food right this instance. How can you be so selfish? Can’t you see they’re hungry?”

Jafar knows a thing about being hungry. He is seeing red that the Sultan, who is aware of his past, would scoff at his cautiousness.

“Father,” Jasmine replies. “Perhaps we _should_ send a cavalry. They can bring extra food with them and then make sure the area is free of threats before the soldiers are disbanded.”

The Sultan pinches his daughter’s cheek.

“You are a smart one!” he says gleefully. “Yes, that’s a good idea.”

“Your majesty,” the villager responds in light panic. “We have enough food as long as the soldiers are gone. We don’t need anymore protection. I’d hate to have your cavalry waste their time on our little village.”

“He does have a point,” the Sultan answers thoughtfully. Jafar looks to Jasmine who has glanced to him with frustration. They share an eye roll.

“Dear father,” Jasmine thickens the charm she has over the Sultan. It is deliberate and manipulative and Jafar cannot help but hold more respect for her. “Have the soldiers stay in the area. Increase the taxes in the village instead so that we can buy and send more food to them. They will be well fed and protected.”

“The village is poor!” the villager cries out. “We can’t afford more taxes.”

“I was told your village has been targeted by bandits in recent years because of it’s rich soil and large spring wells,” Jafar intones.

“You’ve been misinformed,” the villager denies.

“Nonetheless, let us send an ambassador to inspect the soldiers. Perhaps their rations can be reduced to meet the requirements of the village,” Jasmine responds.

“No, we just need the soldiers out!” the villager is nearly hysterical.

“I’m suspicious,” Jafar admits.

“As am I,” Jasmine agrees. “Guards, lead this man to his village. Bring a heavily-armed cavalry.”

“No!” the villager cries out as he brandishes a hidden sword from beneath his robes. The Sultan gasps in astonishment, though neither Jasmine nor Jafar are moved to surprise. “That village belongs to us! It doesn’t belong to Agrabah!”

The villager swings his sword at the nearest guard and manages to slice a flesh wound into his arm. He is wild and erratic which makes him difficult to apprehend. Suddenly the villager looks to the Sultan and in a desperate cry he charges the throne. He is barely ten feet away when Jafar surreptitiously clenches his fist and the villager’s sword flies from his hand. In intense shock, the villager watches the sword embed itself into the wall and he is tackled by the guards behind him.

The Sultan watches in horror but Jasmine and Jafar simply gaze on it like it is an everyday occurrence. The villager is taken away and the throne room is now quiet.

“Well,” the Sultan heaves. “I do believe that man was somehow trying to trick the court into leaving the village unprotected.”

Once again, Jasmine and Jafar glance at each other and share an eye roll.

 

 

The gardens are serene and one of Jafar’s favorite places to think. It is apparently Jasmine’s as well. She sits at a fountain as he comes to greet her.

“Your highness,” he smiles at her, with a bow.

“Good morning, Grand Vizier,” she replies with a subtle flirt to her tone. “Will you walk with me to the court?”

Jafar takes her hand and bends over to kiss it. His lips linger a little too long upon her skin.

“If you wish, my princess,” he replies.

They walk through the gardens, arm in arm. His staff makes a rattling click upon the path.

“That is an interesting staff you have,” Jasmine admires. “Is there something symbolic about your snake?”

“Perhaps you have not been around the court long enough to hear tales of my viciousness,” he answers with more pride than remorse. “I have embraced the species of which others have compared me. This staff further exemplifies my nature.”

“I have certainly heard others refer to you as a snake,” she confirms without a hint of apprehension. “I think it rather suits you.”

“Really?” Jafar turns to her in surprise. He also feels it suits him but he’s uncertain why she would think so.

“Of course, my dear Jafar,” she smiles in a sly way. “Snakes are mysterious, clever…dangerous. They have unexpected strength and possess masterful tongues.” Jasmine holds out her hand and grazes her fingers lightly along the head of his staff. There is something erogenous about the way she slips her fingers around the hood of the snake and she peers over at him to make sure he is watching.

“As you are probably aware, a snake can be charmed as well,” Jafar replies with a heated gaze.

Jasmine laughs lightly and slips her fingers down the staff where his hand is clasped around it. She strokes the back of his hand with her fingertips, barely edging under the sleeve of his cloak before letting her hand fall to her side.

“I certainly hope so,” she says.

 

 

The Sultan generally has dinner with various members of his cabinet, and Jafar is always in attendance. Since she has become of age, Jasmine now sits beside him every night. The Sultan talks, as he always does, of his latest toys and a funny thing the court jester did, and the cabinet members must pretend to enjoy his company after already speaking on a serious note with Jafar.

Lately Jasmine has been sitting across the table from Jafar. At first he was surprised by the amount of eye contact between them but it wasn’t until later that he realized it was no accident. She stares at him with a coquettish smile. He feels the heat rising under his collar as he maintains her gaze, daring her to look away first. It is a game they play every night now.

Tonight she is persistent. She places a slice of strawberry in her mouth and licks her lips. He smiles and flickers his gaze at her lips then back to her eyes, challenging her to be more daring than that.

He winks at her and she huffs lightly, mocking his feeble attempt.

She puts her spoon in her mouth and draws it out slow, her lips pressed against it in a firm hold. She softly moans at the pleasing taste.

He strokes his beard in thought and she eyes him speculatively, waiting for his move. Beneath his hand he puckers his lips and makes a kiss at her that only she can see. She subtly shakes her head. Not good enough.

She takes a spoon full of ice cream and licks it with a long caress of her flat tongue. He won’t be able to get up from the table for a while but he hasn’t lost the game yet.

He merely gazes at her in a smoldering stare. Under the table he is twirling his fingers and shooting magic sparks towards her. She suddenly sits up straight in wide-eyed surprise, mouth slightly gaping after a barely concealed gasp. The magical caress of stimulation has hit her hard. He knows she is wet and throbbing.

“Jasmine?” the Sultan asks after noticing her reaction. “Is there something wrong?”

“Not at all, father,” she replies, placing her hands in her lap like a proper lady, though only Jafar can tell her hands are clasped tightly between her thighs. “Nothing is wrong at all.”

She glances back at him before sighing inwardly, biting back a moan and looking down to the floor.

It is a game he wins often.

 

 

Jafar is in his private office when Jasmine enters.

“Princess,” he welcomes with an arched brow, “how can I be of service to you?”

“I have heard that you make a habit of going to the highest minaret every quarter,” she says. He narrows his eyes and cocks his head at her. She is correct and he does so because he feels it is necessary to magic an invisible shield around the city. Time weakens it and he must reinforce it every few months.

“Possibly,” he replies, leaving it vague.

“I wish to accompany you the next time you go.”

“It is nothing. You will be bored.”

“Nothing? So there’s no reason you ascend the highest tower exactly every 118 days?”

“It is a personal ritual. One that you would find mundane.”

“Still, you will take me with you. According to your rigid schedule, that will be tomorrow,” she sits on his desk and gives him a smug smile.

He strokes his beard and glares at her thoughtfully. If she weren’t such an intelligent creature, he would take her up to the tower, pretend to meditate and then sneak away that night to perform his sorcery. However, he is certain she at least suspects something and a simple fabricated meditation would not deceive her.

She is waiting for his answer, looking more self-satisfied the longer he takes. Her foot dangles over his desk and he’s not sure if it’s an accident that she keeps gently prodding the inside of his thigh. He decides he wants to humor her, but in his snake-like way. He suddenly rises from his chair and he can see the fluster in her eyes as he moves between her legs where she sits. He leans over her, placing his hands on the desk to her sides and his face is mere inches from hers as she leans back in slight alarm. Her body gives her away though. There is a flush of red creeping across her chest and in her cheeks. She is breathing heavily and clearly trying to control it.

He speaks low and deep, enunciating each word with the richness of his baritone. “And why would a princess want to climb the tallest tower just to watch a man meditate?”

Jasmine gasps in a breath at his voice, her eyes lingering upon his lips.

“Do not question me, you virile serpent,” she tries to retain her earlier dominance and is succeeding. “You will take me and you will enjoy it.”

She places her hands at his chest and pushes somewhat forcefully until he has shifted back enough that there is barely room for her to stand between him and the desk. She then turns and brushes past him, her ass is thrust out far enough to graze purposefully against his groin. He grunts in surprise.

Jasmine looks back in pleased conceit before disappearing out the door.

 

 

They climb up the stairs towards the entrance of the minaret. It is difficult but Jafar is surprisingly strong and has made it many times. Jasmine, for all her youth, is trying to conceal the immense effort she’s exerting.

“Would you like some assistance, my princess?” he asks her.

“I would rather you did not call me princess.” She is all out of breath

“It is an honorable title,” he replies. “And few are worthy of it. How would you rather be addressed?”

“It is not that I don’t want anyone to refer to me as princess. It’s that I do not want you to use it. From your forked tongue, it sounds mocking.”

“Then what shall I call her royal highness?” He holds a hand out for her to take.

“I don’t care,” she waves his hand away dismissively. “You can think of something.” He is silent for a moment as he watches her walk up the tower with tired steps.

“You are beautiful and exotic. Graceful and cunning. Your intellect is broad and your instincts sharp. When you are content, you purr your welcome, and when you are unsatisfied, you claw unceasingly. With your exquisite body and razor mind, you are the pinnacle of wonderment.”

Jasmine turns to him in bafflement.

“Is there a point to be made?” she asks. She stands still as he raises himself up on the next step. She is one step higher but he still towers over her as he looks down on her with one side of his mouth turned up in an evil grin.

“Perhaps,” he says deep in his throat. “My pussycat.”

Jasmine smirks in amusement and touches the pads of her fingertips to his lips.

“Silver forked-tongue, indeed,” she approves before turning back to the task of climbing the stairs. He stares at the smooth movements of her ass as they ascend.

 

 

Up in the clear, orange sky where the heat is bearable during that early desert evening, Jafar and Jasmine stand higher than anyone in the kingdom of Agrabah.

“Is this your first time up here?” Jafar inquires.

“It is,” she confirms. “It’s quieter than I expected.”

“The wind is weak this time of year. When it torrents, the air is thick with it’s vicious cries.”

There is a silence between them until Jasmine spurs him to action.

“Well, my handsome cobra?” she goads. “Do your thing.”

“And what thing would you have me do, gentle pussycat?”

“Whatever it is you do in secret up here, of course,” she snides.

“If I expose my secret, then it will no longer be a secret,” he rationalizes with a thin smile. She easily catches his hints.

“What do you propose, masterful serpent?”

“An eye for an eye.”

“A secret for a secret?”

“Yes.”

“What secret shall I tell?” she questions in a lascivious tone, leaning back on the railing so that her breasts are pushed out and tantalizing. “What is it you want to know?”

He eyes her lustfully, then suddenly he is slowly walking towards her till he is drawn near enough to see her chest rising and falling in great breaths.

“I don’t want to know,” he tells her in a hoarse whisper. “I want to see.”

There is a long pause as she considers his request with a haughty smile. Finally her hands rise to the hem of her shirt and she slowly draws it down her arms and torso, the loose fabric easily gives way. It feels like a lifetime until her breasts are exposed to his hungry eyes and he is salivating venomously.

She doesn’t stop there. Her torso is fully exposed and then she gracefully pushes her harem pants down her legs until she is completely naked to him. Jafar is excited beyond measure. He is unable to control the heaving of his chest and the rush of his blood. He leisurely bends down on one knee to take a closer inspection of her feminine aspects. His nose is very nearly in her lightly shaved pubic mound when he feels her hands grip his shoulders and push him away.

“Your tongue does not deserve a taste of this,” she admonishes him, “until you have shown to me your secret.”

Jafar rises to his feet, his cock aching with the pressure of too much blood. Jasmine glances down and bites her lower lip and smirks at the obvious bulge.

He turns and raises his scepter to the sky. With the strength of his words, his scepter glows orange hot, consuming a dark power that amplifies in his straining hand until he thrusts it to the atmosphere. The power is released in a ball of fire and sails into the evening sky and hits a layer of stratosphere, bursting the fireball on impact and spreading like a thin, translucent sheet over the city. It is subtle enough to be hidden by the orange hues of the sky but Jasmine gazes at it in awe.

Jafar turns to her and she beckons him forward with a few curls of her index finger.

“Kneel, Grand Vizier,” she commands. He does as he is told. Jasmine comes up close to him, looks into his waiting eyes and then raises her leg to place upon his shoulder. Her sex is entirely exposed to him and he cannot wrench his gaze away.

“Now taste.” Her hands are at the back of his head and she prods him forward so that his face is buried in her pussy. Jafar’s hands come to her ass and he squeezes his fingers into the muscle there while he laps urgently at his reward. Within moments Jasmine is choking back her moans, frenzied cries of pleasure threatening to escape her throat. She thrusts into him and he happily takes it. Jafar slips his tongue as far into her as he can and her whole body clenches as a desperate moan is released into the still air.

Jasmine is astonished by the force of her orgasm, never having had one before. Her legs go weak and she stumbles, but Jafar catches her and lays her gently down on the ground. He is quickly upon her, between her legs, as he hurriedly fumbles to open his cloak and pull down his pants. He doesn’t have time to draw his penis out before her hands are at his shoulders, shoving him off of her.

“It would have been wiser for you to take advantage of me before giving me completion,” she tells him.

“I thought I was being considerate,” he winces.

She dresses while he hobbles with aching need. His cock is painfully stiff.

“You have been given your prize, my vicious viper,” she tells him with impertinence. “Perhaps you think yourself bold enough to take from me what no other has.”

She goes back down the tower without him. He will have to wait until the blood has returned to his legs.

 

 

Jasmine is half asleep when a warm draft sails in through the open balcony window and she smiles to herself. She does not have to open her eyes to know he is there.

Her sheet slides off her naked form and she can hear a soft growl emanate from his throat. Long fingers splay over her breasts followed by masculine lips that nip softly at her skin. His mouth captures a nipple and her pretend sleep is shattered as she gasps at the touch. He chuckles a low reverberating sound and continues his ministrations.

He is consuming. He kisses her from her toes to her hair, long, languid caresses that stimulate every nerve in her body. She feels his nakedness and his arousal. He is hot and musky. She can’t help but lick into his mouth when he draws near.

Their tongues intertwine with a soft, slow fire. She never wants this new pleasure to end. It is amazingly heightened when he pushes her legs apart and centers himself between her. His cock is at her entrance, waiting for permission. The head is pushed against her and she can feel his blood pulsing.

“Tell me,” he whispers into her ear. It sounds like a hiss. His hands are gently kneading her breasts and her thighs and her ass and it feels like he is everywhere.

“Jafar,” she moans in anguish, shifting her body lower so he might slip in. He presses his body into hers, stilling her efforts.

“Beg me.” This time his forked tongue tickles just inside her ear.

“Fuck me,” she implores. There is a flicker of pain followed by a roaring explosion of ecstasy and she gasps at the sudden fullness inside of her. He rocks long, fluid movements into her, his shaft slithers into her with strong, blissful drives. She is unable to still her voice from crying out in wonderment.

She grips her fingers into his shoulders and presses her thighs against his hips. He is graceful and powerful as he eases in and out of her with muted grunts. She cannot remain quiet with him filling her. It is more sensual and stimulating and wonderful than she had ever imagined. Each thrust into her triggers another pinpoint of euphoria that collect and grow. It awakens her core and she feels a wild exhilaration build madly. It pushes forcefully through her. It is demanding to implode. She clenches her jaw and stifles it. It begs to be released and he can hear it through her strangled, choking wails.

“Yes, pussycat,” he whispers low in her ear. “Come for me, my pussycat.”

His words trigger a response and she can’t fight it anymore. She breaks and is overwhelmed by wave after wave of her orgasm rippling through every part of her body. She moans his name and tenses fiercely around his thick cock. He is caught in her wake and groans long and hard as he empties into her.

They are both sweaty and desperate for oxygen. He pulls out of her and instantly she feels the emptiness.

“And how was that, my beautiful kitty?” his voice cuts through the air.

“You are a snake,” she replies, with not quite controlled breaths. “A devious, impressive, fucking snake.”

He laughs jubilantly.

“A complement. I am appreciative.”

“As am I,” she declares.

 

 

A prince comes to the kingdom seeking Jasmine’s hand in marriage. Her insolence drives him away.

“Please, Jasmine,” the Sultan begs. “Why are you doing this? Won’t you give at least one of them a chance? We’re running out of suitors.”

“I’m not a prize to be won, father,” she shouts and catches Jafar’s eye. He smiles maliciously at her and she glances away because he has won her prize many times. She tries not to grin knowingly as she stomps out of the room.

“Talk some sense into her, Jafar,” the Sultan demands in near hysteria.

“I cannot order the princess to do something against her will,” he explains. “We will just have to wait until a suitor can be found.”

“She’s practically nineteen!” the Sultan exclaims. “She’ll be an old maid by the time a suitable prince claims her.”

“Nineteen is hardly ancient. Besides, she has many assets that a suitor would find appreciative.”

“I guess unsullied is a rare trait still highly valued these days,” the Sultan laments. Jafar chokes back a laugh.

“I was referring to her competence and intelligence,” Jafar replies. “But virginal is certainly a quality that many find arousing.” He thinks back on their first night together. Indeed, the memory has it’s beguile.

 

 

Later, Jasmine finds Jafar in his private office.

“Your father has told me to speak with you about a potential suitor,” Jafar tells her as she enters and shuts the door. “You must marry soon or morale in the kingdom will suffer.”

“It’s odd that my marital situation has anything to do with the kingdom’s disposition,” she answers as she comes to him with an exaggerated sway of her hips.“I have no desire to marry.”

“The kingdom needs an heir,” Jafar says. He makes no disguise that he is lusting after her body in that moment. His eyes undress her before his hands can.

“I can provide an heir,” Jasmine responds, placing her hands at his chest and running her palms up and around his neck. “But why is a prince needed?”

“Something about bastards and legal inheritance, I believe.” He stands over her and gently lifts her, sitting her on his desk.

“A prince cannot provide the necessary traits I’m looking for in an heir,” Jasmine responds by wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing him between her legs.

“And what traits are those?” He pulls her skirt up her thighs and pushes his pants down his legs.

“Cunning. Intelligence. Ruthlessness,” she lists before placing her finger beneath his chin and softly stroking the underside of his jaw. “Tall. Dark. Handsome. Immaculate beard.”

“I think you’re asking for a lot.”

“Robust cock.”

Jafar smirks and fully pushes into her with one thrust.

“Is that robust enough for you, sweet pussycat?” he whispers with a defiance.

“Yes,” she moans agreeably. He pulls out and pushes back in. She gasps in delight. “I want your seed. I want your heir.”

A thought washes through his mind, second only to the thought of her on his dick.

“Perhaps it is possible to bear my child,” he manages to grunt as he thrusts repeatedly into her.

“Tell me more, Grand Viper,” she says though her voice is shaken by his movements.

“You will have to marry a prince, though.”

“No,” she groans dismally. “Don’t speak of this while you’re inside me. I want to enjoy this.”

“Hear me out, kitten,” he speaks his words near her mouth. She licks her tongue across his lips. “Choose a prince, someone of low intellect. Someone easily suggestible…”

“Someone you can hypnotize,” she clarifies.

“Yes,” he confirms as he kisses her roughly between words. “Someone I can evoke into believing the wedding night was consummated.”

She is sucking his bottom lip in her mouth when her eyes go wide and she stops to think about the idea. He sweeps her hair from her neck and nips at the skin there. The beginnings of his climax is culminating rapidly.

“You’re a genius, Jafar,” she finally replies, proving she loves his plan by forcing her mouth onto his and encapsulating him. She speaks between slithers of their twining tongues. “A brilliant…sexy…dangerous…”

Her compliments are bringing him to peak faster than he desired. He hopes to slow the ascent with words of his own.

“You must find a prince who will believe our child is his heir,” he reminds her. It’s not working. He’s going to come soon. “And once the child is born, you can decide what will become of the noble idiot.”

“Ugh,” Jasmine groans in euphoric glee. “I love the way your brilliant mind works.”

She chuckles into his mouth. He returns one of his own. It spurs a laugh and they are laughing together at the same time that they both climax in unison.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone else wants a J/J story, I might have another in me. Please leave a prompt and I'll see what I can do.


End file.
